


A Crash of Fears

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a post-"Last Chance" story, sequel to "Fear Factor"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crash of Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Don't Ask, Don't Tell #4 under the pen name Koppie.

They were alive…   _Alive_.  The thought haunted Matt, carving a small smile  into the corners of his mouth as he closed his eyes, letting the vibration of the chopper ease away the last of the adrenaline rush that had kept him going over the last six hours.  Alive…

The clipped, anxious sounds of the medics working on Chance drew the exhausted man back from the giddy rush of survival and he forced his eyes open.  He watched as IVs were started, the pilot's clothes cut away so the medics could check for additional injuries, dressings applied…

He sighed, and silently prayed that the man would make it.  He wasn't sure, and that uncertainly gnawed on his already raw nerves.  But there was nothing he could do now, nothing but wait, so he did.

He glanced over at C.J., who sat as close to the medics as he could get, his gaze fixed on them as they worked.  His face was pale, his hands balled into fists in his lap.  _Scared_ , Matt realized.  _He's scared shitless that Chance is going to die_.

Turning his head, he saw Margo sitting next to Benny Ray, their shoulders pressed tightly together, drawing strength from the presence of the other.  He envied them the shared touch.  They had become much more physically demonstrative since their return from Bosnia and Matt suspected that Margo had picked the sniper to confide her ordeal to.  He would be eternally grateful that Benny Ray was able to be there for her when she needed him.

He swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of panic rattle through his chest, leaving it tight and fiery.  Fighting for a breath, he ground his teeth and forced the rampant emotion back, his gaze shifting to the sniper.  The image of the man lying unconscious in the crashed plane replaced reality, and he blinked rapidly to clear it away, surprised to discover that it was washed away with the unexpected tears that rolled down his cheeks.  Matt swiped them away, checking to make sure no one had seen his moment of weakness.

 _Benny Ray's fine_ , he scolded himself.  _It's Chance you have to worry about_.  But it did little to assuage the fear that dominated his heart.  There had been a moment, albeit brief, when he hadn't been sure the sniper lived, and in that moment he'd realized just how deep his feelings for the man had grown.  The overwhelming sense of loss had been devastating.  Then Benny Ray had groaned and sat up and a thrill of elation had thrummed through Matt's heart.

He closed his eyes, knowing that if he didn't he wouldn't be able to stop staring at the sniper, repeatedly thanking God that he was alive and well.

Taking a deep breath, he held it a moment, reasserting his control over his body and his emotions before he opened them again and concentrated on the medics.  But it wasn't long before his mind wandered again, to the sniper who had become his obsession…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Matt walked into his office in the basement of the Silver Star and stopped for a moment, enjoying the sense of normalcy that the act represented.  He crossed to his desk and sat down.  Leaning back, he drew a deep breath and sighed contentedly.  After the last three days, he was more than ready for a little bit of boring normalcy.

          Chance had been treated in Panama for nearly forty-eight hours, then flown to Coronado, where he remained in the hospital.  But he was doing wonderfully, according to his doctor, who was already talking about sending him home later in the week.  But Matt knew Chance wouldn't be heading back to his Santa Ana loft; he would be staying at the Silver Star for a while, until the team leader was sure he was all right.  Then he could go home if he wanted to, but not before.

          The rest of them were still tired and sore, but they were healing quickly, and would be good to go long before the pilot, who had at least a month or more of physical therapy ahead of him before he could even think about returning to the field.  Three months was Matt's guess.  Three months and Chance would be good to go.  A long time in their business, but they would make do.  There was no way he was going to let the man back into the action before Chance was ready.  That was a recipe for disaster, and he was too valuable to risk that way.

          And, while they waited for Chance to recover, the rest of them would enjoy some much-needed down time.  He had plans for finishing the renovations to the second floor suites, and, hopefully, getting more work done on the first floor as well.  He was still toying with the idea of turning it into a working bar, but hadn't quite made up his mind.  He still had some time to decide, but this was probably it.  It was time to call a meeting and toss the idea out to the others, get their opinions.  But that would have to wait a bit, too.  Margo was planning a trip to Europe for some quality shopping and spa time, and C.J. had been enlisted to chauffeur Chance to his PT appointments and otherwise play Man Friday for the pilot, so they wouldn't be available.

Benny Ray, however, had said he'd be available to help with the work at the old hotel.  Matt sighed, unsure if he was happy about that or not.

He greatly appreciated the man's help, and more certainly got done with the two of them working together, but ever since the disaster in Bosnia it had gotten progressively harder and harder to spend time alone with the sniper.  And the former major knew that it was going to get harder still, now that he truly appreciated how much he felt for the man.

When the others were around he could ignore his desires, but when it was just the two of them…

Matt licked his suddenly dry lips, and puffed out a breath, shaking his head.  When they were alone, he found his gaze constantly drawn to the man's body – his powerful arms and shoulders, usually bare thanks to the tank-tops he wore when he was working in the Silver Star, or his muscular chest and back, clearly discernible under the thin cotton material, which clung to his body.  And then there was his thighs, covered in faded denim, the muscles easy to see when he moved.  Or, even more distracting, his rounded, inviting ass…

He leaned forward, resting his head on his desk.  _Why the hell did I have to fall for him?_ he asked whatever malevolent powers had seen fit to curse him so.  Just thinking about the man's ass had his cock doing a dance in his boxers.  It wasn't fair.

He had come close to telling the sniper how he felt after Bosnia.  Watching the man pass out into his arms had shaken him right to his core, but he'd lost his nerve and life had returned to normal for them.  But normal now included wet dreams and sudden erections when he and Benny Ray were alone.  It was like his body was revisiting puberty, and he was getting damned tired of it.  But what could he do?

 _Tell him!_ a part of his mind bellowed.

 _Yeah, right.  'Uh, Benny Ray, I know you're not interested, but I'm in love with you and I want to screw you through the floor.  Would you mind pulling those tight jeans down and bending over?'  Oh, yeah, like that's going to happen_.

 _Not in this lifetime_.

But he had to do something, especially if he was going to be spending the next month alone with the man.  For the first time, Matt regretted that Benny Ray lived in the old hotel.  There would be no escaping him.  Unless he decided to take some of the time and spend it with his kids.  Maybe he could suggest that when he saw him.

But that would only be a weekend, at most.

A month had never looked quite so long.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Standing under the stinging cool spray, Matt silently cursed the soapy member he held in his hand, wishing he could just come and be done with it, but jerking off wasn't helping.  His mind was full of images that he couldn't shake, and those images were keeping his cock hard and aching.  And the feel of his own hand wasn't enough to end his agony.

          He knew what he needed to do, but he didn't want to do it.  He'd been doing too much of it over the past three weeks.  But he knew if he didn't, he wasn't going to find any relief.

          He toyed with the idea of turning the hot water off; let the cold spray do the job for him, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

          With a frustrated huff, he twisted the hot water handle and let the flow of warm water rush over his body, relaxing his tense muscles and letting the vivid memories of the dream that had been haunting his nights ever since the crash seep into his mind.

It always started out the same…  _He was back in the jungle.  It was night.  Scattered small fires from the crashed plane cast flickering shadows across the tree trunks and broad plant leaves.  Shoving through the thick, damp growth, he made his way to a large section of the plane that sat in a shallow river._

_Splashing to the gaping opening, the edge of the torn metal looking like the jaws of a huge shark, he stepped inside, his heart beating faster.  He spotted the man immediately: Benny Ray lay on the floor of the plane, his face submerged in the dark water._

_Rushing to the man, Matt carefully turned him over and checked for a pulse, but there was none.  Fear seized his heart, making it beat faster as it squeezed with icy fingers.  He scooped the sniper up, carrying him to a bare patch of ground at the edge of the river.  Laying him down, he noticed for the first time that Benny Ray was wearing faded jeans and a black tank top, but his confusion over the man's clothes was fleeting as he immediately set to work, tilting the man's head back, opening his mouth and checking for a breath against his cheek that he knew wasn't there._

_His worst fear confirmed, he turned back, pressing his lips over the sniper's breathing life into the man.  Once, twice, three times…  He paused, checking for a pulse again.  Still nothing._

_He quickly shifted, finding the correct spot, positioning his hands, counting the compressions – one, two, three, four, five… then back to breathe for the man, once, twice…  more compressions… back to Benny Ray's lips, breathing… compressions… back to his lips… Aand then it happened._

_He wasn't breathing for the man any longer, he was being kissed, deeply, passionately.  His eyes slid closed, the sensations the sniper creating washing over his body like the touch of a seducing hand.  He moaned softly into Benny Ray's mouth._

_The sniper moved, his arms encircling him, his body forcing Matt over onto the ground, which was soft and warm against his back.  But he ignored the incongruity, a part of him realizing that he was asleep, dreaming, and not caring, to content to remain in the warm embrace, to enjoy the kiss, tongues dueling._

_He reached under the sniper's shirt, rubbing his hands over the man's sides, back, daring to reach down and cup the denim-clad ass._

_Benny Ray pulled back, panting slightly as he stared down at Matt, blue eyes hungry and intense.  He grabbed the bottom of his tank top and pulled it off over his head, tossing it aside.  Standing, he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them over his hips and stepping out of them.  There was no underwear, the man's cock thrusting out at Matt, demanding his attention._

_And he himself was naked, lying in the middle of his bed at the Silver Star.  He spread his legs, inviting Benny Ray to join him, to join with him._

_The sniper stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at Matt.  He licked his lips, one of his hands reaching down to stroke himself.  Then, with a grin Matt fervently hoped he saw for real one day, Benny Ray crawled onto the bed, moving up between his legs, his lips closing over the crown of Matt's cock, his tongue spelling out words of pure bliss across his sensitive skin._

_"Oh God," Matt gasped as he was slowly swallowed._

_And then he was coming, shooting down the sniper's throat while Benny Ray sucked him dry._

_His victory assured by Matt's passion-slack muscles, Benny Ray rose, his erection swollen and dripping._

_Matt smiled and nodded, knowing what the sniper had in mind for him next.  He lifted his legs, exposing himself to the man's possessive gaze._

_Moving closer, Benny Ray gripped the base of his cock and pressed the seeping head against the tight ring of muscle.  A moment later he was pushing deeply into the man.  Somewhere in his mind, Matt knew things were missing: condom, lubricant, but it didn't matter; his dream pleasure overrode common sense._

_The rhythm they established was primal, demanding, and Matt could feel his balls drawing up, the familiar tingle of release spreading through his groin.  And then he was shooting, come landing like lines being painted across Benny Ray's chest and belly.  A low, growling moan accompanied the artistic effort and Matt quickly realized that he was the one making the noise, but he was beyond caring, caught up in the waves of pure bliss that rocked through his body and soul._

_And then there was the expression on the sniper's face.  It was profoundly unique to Benny Ray, a combination of pleasure and pain, drive and hesitancy, love and domination._

_Matt watched as Benny Ray's release neared, noting the way the muscles along his neck corded, the way his head tilted back just slightly, his eyes narrowing to slits, his lips curling back as he thrust faster, harder… and then his body was shaking, his hips jerking out of his control as he filled Matt with a spray of molten desire…_

Matt grunted, the last of his orgasm joining the swirl of soapy water disappearing down the shower drain.  He let the water rinse him clean, his breathing returning to normal.

When the water began to turn cold again, he twisted the handles, then reached for a towel to dry off.  He dressed again and headed back downstairs where he knew the sniper would be waiting for him.  They had agreed earlier to walk down and grab dinner at the seaside diner.  He hoped his shower hand-job would allow him to make it through the meal without embarrassing himself.

He shook his head.  How long could he go on like this?  Would he ever work up the courage to tell Benny Ray how he felt?

Probably not, he decided.  He couldn't imagine risking his friendship with the man for sex.

But it was more than that, he knew.  It's wasn't sex, it was love.  And that was the problem.  He could already see the signs, the fear he felt when they were in the field, the way his heart hurt when something went wrong, the dreams.

 _I've got to get a handle on this_ , he told himself sternly.  _The man was married for twelve years.  He's as straight as they come.  I tell him I want him in my bed, and he's going to bolt.  Better to have him here, out of reach, than lose him entirely_.

But God it was hard.

 _Be practical_ , he told himself.  _Enjoy the friendship.  The dreams will take care of the rest_.

But he knew he couldn't survive on just the dreams for long.  His desire for the man was growing every day.  He'd already found himself becoming much more tactile around the sniper.  Not that Benny Ray seemed to mind.  In fact, he seemed to enjoy and welcome it.

 _Probably because he misses his kids_ , Matt reasoned.  When they were with him, they were always touching the sniper, hanging onto his arms, his legs, wrestling with him, hugging him, kissing him goodbye.

Matt snorted softly to himself, acknowledging that he sometimes found himself jealous of their closeness with their father.  But there was nothing he could do about it.  He just had to find a way to compartmentalize his feelings for Benny Ray – put them into a small, tight box in his heart and only take them out when he was alone in the shower, or in bed.  Then he could let himself imagine what it would be like to be with the man, to love him, and be loved by him, physically as well as emotionally.

It was as good as he was going to get.  _So get used to it_ , he ordered himself, and, with a deep breath, headed downstairs to meet Benny Ray, a sadness he didn't know was there shrouding him like a blanket.


End file.
